


Spy

by PaperRevolution



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Marauders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:05:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8730454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperRevolution/pseuds/PaperRevolution
Summary: During Voldemort's first rise to power, Sirius begins to doubt Remus' trust.





	

"Look at me. Look at me and tell me this isn't because--"

"It's not because of that! When have I ever done anything to make you think I care about you being a--"

Sirius stops. Abruptly. Remus can see the frustration coiled in the tight set of his shoulders and, worse than that, the hurt on his face. He's got no right to be hurt. He's the one implying--

"I'm not a spy," says Remus quietly and deliberately. Suddenly, he feels bone tired. He'd collapse onto the moth-eaten sofa behind him if he felt welcome here. But he doesn't. He doesn't.

(He'd helped Sirius move into this place. Carting boxes up the narrow staircase like Muggles, because the building was full of them. That, Sirius had said triumphantly, was why he had chosen it. It was about as different from his family home as it could possibly be.)

Sirius, for once in his life, doesn't seem to have a clue what to say. He breathes out, slow, and drags a hand through the tangles in his hair.

"I'm not saying you are," he gets out, finally. "It's just--we just need to be careful."

"And that 'we' doesn't include me."

Remus intends for this to be a flat statement of fact, but instead he sounds like a petulant child even to his own ears. There's a weightless ache in his chest and in the pit of his stomach, like someone has scooped out his insides. He wants to step around Sirius and make for the door, but his limbs are locked like he's been hit with a full body-bind curse.

"It's not--" Sirius begins, "We--I can't trust anyone, right now." He angles his head sharply away from Remus, towards the window with its ragged half-drawn curtain. Remus flinches: here is Sirius, unable to meet his eyes.

"You trust James," he points out. His words are stilted. Usually he can be eloquent in his quiet way. Even that is gone now.

Sirius doesn't say anything. What can he say? What's his excuse? His reasoning? Not knowing this, that's the thing that prickles at Remus. What did I do? He wants to scream. What did I do to make you doubt me? He wants to yell it until his chest aches because maybe that will ease the hollowness. He wants to shout until he's hoarse, but he knows what that would do to Sirius and he can't do it. He can't stand the idea of being put up there with Walburga Black in Sirius' mind. 

So he swallows the hot itch of words he shouldn't say. He unclenches his fists and forces himself to move.

"I'll--just--" he says. "I'd better get going now."

Sirius, Atlas-shouldered, doesn't move to stop him.


End file.
